


Crimson

by wheel_pen



Series: Alice [24]
Category: Smallville
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Naughtiness, Red Kryptonite, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-30
Updated: 2013-04-30
Packaged: 2017-12-10 00:17:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/779617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wheel_pen/pseuds/wheel_pen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The red K must be hidden on Clark somewhere, and it’s up to Alice to find it. This story is unfinished.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crimson

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. Alice, my original female character, is new in Smallville. There is something special about her, and she and Clark form a relationship.
> 
> 2\. This series starts after the end of the second season—after the destruction of the spaceship and Clark abruptly leaving town.
> 
> 3\. Underage warning: This story may contain human or human-like teenagers, in high school, in sexual situations.
> 
> 4\. The bad words are censored. That’s just how I do things.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this AU. I own nothing and appreciate the chance to play in this universe.

            Pete knew it was just going to be one of those days. He had only remembered the essay he was supposed to write on the Metaphysical poets as he was racing to catch the bus this morning. He walked into the corner of the wall while trying to smooth-talk Melissa Manchester into a date on Friday. The posted lunch menu for today advertised mystery meat with industrial-strength bread pudding for dessert. And to top it all off, Clark had just appeared in the hallway—wearing a black t-shirt two sizes too small, a black leather jacket, and a bad attitude that wafted off him like cheap cologne. There could be only one explanation for _that_.

            Unfortunately he was with Lana and Chloe, so he couldn’t exactly blurt it out the moment Clark approached them. Clark gave a “thank you” wink to the freshman girl who had whistled appreciatively as she walked by him, then focused his attention on his friends, who were all staring at him dubiously. “Um, Clark,” Lana began tentatively, “are you feeling okay today?”

            “Lana, I love you,” Clark replied easily, and everyone’s eyes widened until he continued, “but, have you ever noticed how the _moment_ I start having a little bit of fun, everybody always asks me if I’m sick or something?” He shook his head and gave them all a patronizing little smirk.

            “Well, come on, Clark,” Chloe pointed out, even though Pete was furiously willing her _not_ to argue, “you’re not exactly the Rebel Without a Cause.” She gave him a once-over and found it more enjoyable than she cared to admit. “Most of the time anyway.”

            “Oh, Chloe,” Clark sighed, and the way he said her name made her cheeks a little pink. “You’re a good pal. You’re all good pals,” he added, taking the three of them in. “But sometimes I feel like you’re trying to put me in a box. A little, restrained, simple, boring box labeled ‘Clark Kent.’ And I just don’t think that’s who I really am anymore.”

            “Well, then, who _are_ you?” Lana asked, slightly irritated.

            Clark opened his mouth to answer but Pete, fearing the worst, grabbed his arm and dragged him a few feet away. “Clark,” he hissed urgently, “did you get into the red meteor rocks again?”

            Clark rolled his eyes dramatically. “Pete, Pete, Pete.” Clark slapped his hands onto his friend’s shoulders a little harder than necessary. “You know so much about me, buddy, and even you just don’t get it. Clark Kent acts a little bit differently one day, and you think he must be… _under the influence_ , huh?”

            “Well _are_ you?” Pete insisted, struggling to stand upright.

            Clark spread his arms, alleviating the pressure on Pete’s shoulders. “You see anything, Pete?” he asked, a little irritated. And a little too loudly. “Anything to confirm your suspicions?”

            Pete tried to ignore the looks they were drawing from their fellow students and quickly scanned Clark. There was no obvious sign of the red rocks on him, but that meant little—a chunk could be tucked in a pocket somewhere. “Clark, I think we should call your parents and—“

            “Call my parents?” Clark barked out a laugh. “That’s really funny, Pete. Really.” Meteor influence or not, Pete was getting really steamed with Clark’s condescending attitude. “The fact is,” the taller boy continued, loud enough for Chloe and Lana to hear him a few feet away, “there’s only one person around here who can appreciate me without _judging_ me all the time.” Pete had a feeling who he meant, and his fears were confirmed when Clark looked up and spotted Alice at her locker down the hall.

            Clark started for her but Pete stepped in front of him. “Clark, think about what you’re doing,” he ground out, knowing everyone was watching them. “What if you hurt her?”

            Clark grinned at him and waggled his eyebrows. “Don’t worry about Alice, Pete,” he assured his friend. “She likes to play rough.”

            Pete didn’t even want to contemplate what that could possibly mean. All he knew was, he had to find a way to warn Alice—even if it meant giving away Clark’s secret to her. If she ticked him off—well, Pete knew what his _real_ friend would and wouldn’t do. But Red!Clark was another creature entirely.

            Clark pushed past Pete and sauntered down the hall, letting everyone who wanted to have a good look at what they weren’t getting. The one person who _could_ have it, however, was apparently deep in thought about digging a textbook out of her locker. Clark took Alice’s arm and turned her around, knowing that his firm grip wouldn’t hurt her. Those beautiful blue eyes almost made him forget what he was going to say as he stared down into them, one hand braced on the locker beside her head, the other sliding to her waist.

            “Um, Clark?” she asked, confusion evident.

            “Hi, sweetie,” he greeted, going in for a kiss. She dodged him, although she couldn’t move far with his body blocking her from all sides. His foot was even sliding in between the black knee-high boots she wore. It would have been extremely sexy, except for the fact that they were standing in the school hallway.

            Clark pouted and pulled her even closer, his arm going around her waist. “What’s the matter, Alice?” he purred, trying to sound hurt. “Aren’t you glad to see me this morning?”

            “I-I am, Clark,” she assured him, automatically sliding her hands up his chest. “But it’s kind of a warm greeting for school, isn’t it?”

            He smirked at her and her heart fluttered. D—n, he was good-looking. “Well, it’s cold outside, baby,” he pointed out sardonically. The weather did not, of course, bother either of them, but her longer skirt and long-sleeved top—both black—were concessions to the appearance she had to present. _Thought_ she had to present, Clark told himself. He leaned in to nuzzle her ear. “You should have worn that little leopard-spot top,” he whispered, nibbling the edge of her jaw. “You look _so_ hot in that.”

            Of Clark’s sincerity Alice was convinced, especially because she could feel it pressing against her upper thigh as he leaned into her. His lips on her neck and the fingers that were starting to slide under the edge of her shirt in back almost burned, making her desperately want to forget about the world around them. She shook her head, forcing her eyes open—this wasn’t _Clark_ talking though, this was… someone else. Looking over Clark’s leather-clad—leather-clad?—shoulder, she saw Pete frantically signaling to her, although she had no clue what he was trying to communicate. Aside from the fact that something was very wrong.

            Although, to borrow a cliché, how could something wrong feel so right… “Clark,” Alice began warningly, trying to take a cooling breath.

            “Oh, don’t be mad,” he cajoled her. “You look hot in everything.” He leaned in, brushing her lips with his. “You’d look even hotter in nothing at all.” Her mouth opened a little at that, more in surprise than anything else, but he took the opportunity to dive in and well—d—n, what was she supposed to be doing again?

            Alice was going to clean pass out if Clark didn’t let her up for air soon, Pete decided. They were practically having sex in the hallway anyway, with his hands all over her and her leg curling up his. But if she suddenly changed her mind—and from what he knew of Alice it seemed like she wasn’t really in to being that trashy—Clark was going to get mean. How was he supposed to warn her?

            Taking a deep breath, Pete plunged in and got right into their space. “Clark!” he said under his breath. “Come on, man, this isn’t you.”

            “Pete.” Oh boy, Clark definitely sounded ticked at him. “I appreciate the interest, but when _I_ think of a threesome, it’s usually with Lana or Chloe, not you. So maybe you could _back off_.”

            Alice’s eyes went wide. If she could stop to think, the whole situation was reminiscent of something Clark had been telling her about a few weeks ago…

            Pete wasn’t giving up, though. “Clark, it’s the _red rocks_ , I don’t know where they are, but it’s the _red_ doing this, not you…” Come on, he told himself, meteors had weird effects on people around here all the time, it wouldn’t be such a stretch for a red meteor rock to turn an ordinary person wacky. Give them, say, strength or speed that they wouldn’t have otherwise. He wasn’t really giving anything away.

            Alice was staring at him curiously. “Pete, what are you—“

            “Pete is just too much of a _worrier_ for his own good,” Clark interrupted, and his voice was almost a growl. “Get lost. Buddy.”

            Pete started to protest again. When Clark got over this, if he’d hurt Alice in any way, he’d lose it, and Pete couldn’t let that happen to his friend. But Clark was tired of listening to him, apparently, and he grabbed the front of Pete’s sweater with a threatening force. _Oh s—t_ , Pete thought, preparing himself for some contusions. Maybe he should always just carry some green meteor rock around with him, for situations like this.

            Alice’s pale hand landed on Clark’s and encouraged his fingers to untangle from the sweater. “Don’t bother with him, Clark,” she suggested flirtatiously, threading her other hand through his dark hair. She was an excellent distraction, and Pete stepped away with only his sweater permanently injured. “Let’s get out of here. Go have some fun.”

            Clark grinned at her, Pete all but forgotten. _This_ was more the attitude he’d been looking for. But he had a more immediate idea. “Let’s set the fire alarm off again,” he told her, capturing her lips for a kiss he intended as literally scorching.

            Having come close to death or at least serious injury and escaped, Pete was reluctant to move in again. But Alice could only keep Clark in a good mood for so long. “ _What_ has gotten into Clark?” Chloe asked suddenly, appearing behind Pete before he could come up with his next plan. She looked torn between giggling immaturely at the make-out session ten feet away and desperately wishing it were _her_ in that clutch.

            Lana was pale, like she might puke or pass out at any moment, and Pete swore she actually winced when she saw Clark’s hand sliding determinedly up Alice’s shirt. “She is such a—“ Lana stopped herself, teeth gritted, and Pete stared at her in surprise. “I can’t believe she would do this to Clark.”

            Chloe raised an eyebrow as Alice caught Clark’s hand and maneuvered it around to her back, where it could do less damage. “Oh, Lana, I think Clark’s pretty much taking the lead on this one,” Chloe commented, and she couldn’t help her smirk. Whatever magic mojo Alice had worked on Clark—and Chloe didn’t want to be all b---hy and jealous and say that magic mojo was Alice’s only advantage here—she had turned it on way too high today. And now the situation was getting a _little_ warm for her, from the looks of it.

            And it was about to get even warmer. “Kent!” Clark had the feeling Principal Reynolds had called his name several times before the teenager actually noticed. Clark rolled his eyes, smirked at Alice’s nervous expression, and focused his activities on her all the more intensely, deliberately ignoring the gruff high school principal.

            With their keen sense of self-preservation at war with their determination to witness _the_ gossip event of the week, the other students in the hallway scampered away from the center of the principal’s ire but mostly refrained from heading to their morning classes. Reynolds therefore had plenty of room to plant himself in an authoritative position beside the seemingly oblivious couple. “Kent!” he shouted again.

            There was no way Clark could convincingly act as though he hadn’t heard this time. So he didn’t. “I made it here on time today,” he growled, fixing his full glare on the older man. Alice tensed. “So. Just. F—k. Off.” And he turned back to bury his face in Alice’s neck.

            A simple statement, but a provocative one, especially to the main authority figure in a high school. “Kent, you and your girlfriend are going to be here _on time_ for more Saturdays than you can count—“ Reynolds began, reaching out to grab Clark’s shoulder and yank him around. The instant he touched the leather jacket, however, there was a hiss of steam, a horrible smell, and a gasp of pain from the principal, and he drew his hand back to stare at the reddened flesh. It was as if he’d tried to grasp the glowing coils of an oven.

            Clark seemed only slightly less surprised by the spontaneously burning flesh than the onlookers did, but he converted that emotion to anger with typical teenage efficiency. Letting Alice go except for one hand that gripped hers, he took a menacing step towards the principal, who to his credit did not back up any more than was necessary to avoid being scorched again. “I’m tired of you riding my a-s all the time, Reynolds,” Clark told him. “Put someone else at the top of your s—t list for a change—“

            Pete could see disaster and started to plunge forward without even thinking. Fortunately Chloe grabbed one arm and Lana, in a remarkable display of proactivity, grabbed the other. Ninety-eight percent of the time, Clark Kent was mild-mannered Farmboy, plaid flannel and denim to the core; but every once in a while something took hold of him, and then he could be dark, and angry—and dangerous. Chloe, Lana, and Pete had made an unconscious choice to never really discuss it amongst themselves, but they all knew about it—and Chloe and Lana weren’t about to let Pete get hurt.

            Alice was in a more effective position to protest anyway, as far as the other two girls were concerned. She immediately threw herself in front of Clark, physically blocking his path; he couldn’t push past her without revealing what a struggle it would be, and _that_ just wouldn’t be cool. So he paused and thought seriously about just razing the place to the ground with his heat vision.

            “Clark!” Alice was also adept at securing his attention. “Clark, come on, let’s just get out of here,” she suggested, blue eyes pleading. “Let’s go have some fun, okay?”

            Fun. Yeah. As much fun as roasting the school like a bag full of marshmallows sounded, Clark could think of a number of things that he would enjoy even more, and he didn’t want to waste what little time he had before various authority figures in his life started calling each other and demanding that _something be done_ about that Kent boy. He also decided he had _way_ too many authority figures in his life.

            “Yeah, let’s go,” he agreed. He turned abruptly, tugging Alice down the hallway past his gaggle of friends, who rated nothing more than the same scornful glare anyone in his path received. “We can take my bike.”

 

            Red meteor rocks. Or, more properly, red Kryptonite. That was what you had to watch out for when your boyfriend was an alien, not drinking binges or illegal drug use. Unfortunately, as far as Alice knew the effects of red Kryptonite wouldn’t wear off the way a few beers would, and it was a whole lot harder to explain to the authorities than a little pot. Pete had been trying valiantly to warn her, thinking Clark was going to hurt her—it was a sweet gesture, but it also worried her, because Pete had seen Clark like this before and had at least some idea what he was capable of. Alice wasn’t worried about him hurting _her_ ; but if she had to restrain him from hurting someone _else_ , both of their secrets were in jeopardy.

            In relating some of his previous history with red Kryptonite Clark had mentioned that as soon as the red rock was removed from his immediate presence, he went back to normal. Therefore, Alice figured, it ought to be relatively easy to fix this situation, provided she could find the mineral in question. She didn’t know whether it hurt or helped her search that Clark seemed to have one activity, and one activity only, on his mind; his constant make-out attempts—in the school parking lot, under a tree on the side of the road, in the middle of _Main Street_ for G-d’s sake—were a good excuse to pat him down but also extremely embarrassing for Alice. The moment Mrs. Chesterfield from the bank walked by them on the sidewalk, while they were parked randomly in front of an antique shop for some determined groping, and gave them a look that said, “I _knew_ you would cause trouble around here, city girl,” was the moment Alice truly realized how tiny and close knit Smallville was. People knew Clark, they knew his parents, and they were shocked to see him like this, but _because_ they knew him—or thought they did—they knew he wasn’t _really_ like this. So he must have been led astray. Probably by that dark-haired girl from Gotham who always wore black. Such a shame.

            “Let’s go to my house,” Alice suggested impulsively. That would get them out of the public eye, anyway, which would free her to be so much more active in trying to find that red meteor rock—and in trying to restrain his wandering hands. Her mom would be at work, and hopefully her grandmother would also be out somewhere, at a friend’s house or maybe down at the beauty shop too.

            Clark grinned at her like that was the best idea he’d heard all day, and he immediately turned around and gunned the engine of the motorcycle, nearly running someone down when he peeled down the street. The pedestrian looked more surprised and irritated than injured when Alice glanced back, so she didn’t bother chastising Clark for it; he would have just laughed uncaringly anyway.

            The motorcycle was loud enough to draw Alice’s grandmother’s attention even if she’d forgotten to turn on her hearing aid again, so when she didn’t come to the door after Clark parked in the driveway Alice took it as a good sign that she wasn’t home. Still, she wasn’t taking any chances. “Shush!” she told Clark firmly, slapping his hand away as they let themselves in. “Grandma?”

            “She’s not here, there’s no one here,” he insisted impatiently.

            “And you know that because?” Alice asked him, slightly irritated, as she checked the den in case her grandmother was watching _The Price is Right_ with the headphones she turned up extra loud.

            “Um...” Clark sounded slightly guilty, and Alice glanced at him in surprise. “I scanned the house already,” he finally admitted.

            She rolled her eyes. “So it _was_ you making me queasy on the porch,” she concluded. Clark’s x-ray vision always did that to her, for some reason, so most of the time he was careful not to use it near her.

            “Aw, I’m sorry, Alice,” he cooed, backing her against the wall at the foot of the stairs, and the very fact that Clark Kent was _cooing_ was enough to set alarm bells off in her head, as though they weren’t operating at full volume anyway. “I was just trying to speed things along...”

            “Yes, you’re being very _speedy_ today, mister,” Alice told him, chastising a little as she pushed his hands back to neutral territory. She tried very hard to focus on what she ought to say. “Pete mentioned the red meteors...”

            “G-------t, Alice,” Clark growled, nipping her neck a little harder than usual as his hands slid down her thighs, “I’m a teenager. I’m supposed to f-----g have mood swings. Why do you guys always assume I’m on drugs or something?”

            Clark’s hands and lips were being very persuasive. “Oh, this is _so_ not a mood swing, baby,” she determined, but she felt the weight of authority in her tone was somewhat lessened by the pleased noise she made when he maneuvered his hand somewhere that was definitely _not_ neutral territory.

            It seemed to have enough weight of authority for Clark, though, because he pulled back suddenly. When Alice opened her eyes, missing his warmth, she found him glaring at her furiously. For a moment she was almost frightened, and then she was mad, and she thought that was probably better. Maybe it would keep her mind on the task at hand. “Alice, I think I would f-----g _know_ when I picked up a red meteor rock, wouldn’t I?” he demanded. “I only spent a whole g-----n summer on the stuff! I don’t go hanging around it for _fun_ , you know!”

            “Okay, okay,” Alice placated, entirely not believing him. Perhaps she believed that _he_ believed, though. “This just isn’t like you, that’s all.”

            “I am so f-----g _sick and tired_ of people thinking they _know_ what I’m _like_!” Clark decided, eyes wild like Alice had never seen. A flash of desire welled up in her, thinking of all the power he possessed, imagining it completely free and untamed, and she tamped down on that thought ruthlessly. He raised his arm, hand balled into a fist, and aimed a punch at the wall a foot away from her head—but Alice caught it easily, the back of her knuckles barely grazing the wallpaper.

            “Hey, you wanna play, you play with _me_ ,” she told him sternly. His eyes widened as he tried to pull his fist away and couldn’t. “No breaking things.” Alice got the idea from his expression that Clark could get rather used to her ordering him around, at least on a temporary basis. She thought she could get used to it, too. “So let’s go upstairs.”

            Literally an instant later she found herself on her bed, Clark’s weight pressing her down in a not-unpleasant manner. _Best use of superspeed ever_ , she thought inadvertently, twining her long fingers through his dark hair as he concentrated on depriving her body of unneeded oxygen. _No! Bad! Focus!_ Grinning playfully, Alice pushed the leather jacket off Clark’s arms, tossing it to the other side of the room; the appreciative smirk he gave her in return was heart-stoppingly gorgeous, but still a smirk—not a Clark-appropriate smile. So, no meteor rock concealed in _that_ item of clothing. Besides which, under such close inspection, she could see that his luminous green irises were rimmed in red—but given his insistence that he hadn’t gotten into the meteor stuff, she decided not to point this out.

            “Take your shoes off,” she told him, and he raised his eyebrows a little. “Or were you planning on this being too quick to bother?” Alice added hurriedly, trying to make it sound like a challenge.

            “Oh, don’t worry, sweetie,” Clark assured her, rolling onto his side so he could kick his heavy work boots off. “We’re going to be up here a _long_ time. I’ve got one or two ‘gifts’ to show you that I never got around to mentioning...”

            Alice’s sapphire eyes widened as she contemplated the possibilities, and Clark took advantage of her momentarily still state to swoop back in. “Hang on, hang on,” she finally gasped out, when his hands starting pushing her skirt up. “Um... don’t you want me to take my boots off, too?”

            “No f-----g way,” Clark assured her, fondling the back of her calf through the black leather in a way that was nothing short of obscene. “The boots stay _on_.”

            Alice was getting desperate—desperate in more ways than one, actually, although the amount she was turned on by cheeky, aggressive Clark was beginning to lessen the more he insisted on putting his hands exactly where she didn’t want them. They had never had cause to determine which of two of them was _stronger_ ; whatever they were doing—playing, charging after something, making out—one of them always gave in to the will of the other, to either stop or continue, instead of fighting. Normally, of course, that was a _good_ thing, but under the present circumstances... Alice still had the feeling Clark was _letting_ her push his hands away, even if he just put them right back where they’d been, but she could see he was starting to get annoyed.

            “Come on, Alice,” he snapped, a little surly. “Quit teasing me.”

            “Teasing _you_?” she asked, incredulous. She shoved him off and sat up, scooting a few inches away on the bed. “You’re the one who _jumped_ me at school!”

            “Well _you’re_ always wearing those little skirts and tight shirts and those... _boots_ ,” Clark replied accusingly, narrowing his eyes meanly. “You’re a f-----g c—ktease, Alice! All the g-----n time!” Her eyes widened again, this time in shock. Even as his words confirmed that Clark was _definitely_ not in his right mind, she felt herself getting angry with him. “So now’s your chance to actually _put out_ —“ Clark lunged for her but landed with an ungainly thump on the bed when Alice dodged, glaring at him from the center of the room.

            “Would you _listen_ to yourself, Clark?” she demanded. “This isn’t _you_ , I don’t care _how_ many self-help books you’ve read since _yesterday_. And,” Alice added, perhaps unwisely, giving in to her temper, “if this _is_ the ‘real you,’ then the real you is a _jacka-s_ , and you can just find some other girl to plan your ‘alien invasion’ with!”

            Clark groaned in frustration and flopped back on the bed, seemingly exasperated at the utter nonsense he was forced to deal with sometimes. When he sat back up, however, his expression had sweetened somewhat, and Alice found herself, almost against her will and certainly against her better judgment, starting to drift closer to him. “Alice,” he began, cooing again, “I’m sorry.” She knew she shouldn’t believe him. “I guess this must seem pretty sudden to you.” But she really wanted to. “Come here.” He patted the bed next to him invitingly. “Come on.” She felt her foot shuffling forward on its own. “I didn’t mean to freak you out.” Perhaps her boots were as in love with him as he was with them. “I got a little carried away, I know.” She was standing beside the bed now, with no conscious memory of having walked there. “But it’s only because you’re so sexy, and beautiful, and there’s no one else I want to be with.” She sat down on the bed and eyed him warily as he slid his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. “I know you must be kind of nervous, about your _first time_ and all...”

            He nuzzled her neck, sensuously instead of roughly this time, and Alice felt her spine melting. Still, she found enough concentration to mutter, “Your first time, too...” There was a slight hiccup, something like a snicker, from vicinity of her earlobe, which made Alice’s eyes fly open. “ _Right_?” she insisted, dragging his head up. His full lips twisted into a roguish grin that would be utterly charming were it not for the confession they so clearly held. “Clark!” She pushed him back, incensed again. “You _told_ me you’d never had sex before!”

            “Oh, come _on_ , Alice,” he replied easily. “I mean... look at me.” He casually yanked his tight black t-shirt off over his head and Alice couldn’t help but look, and try to stay focused on the fact that she was really, really angry with him. “Come on, sweetie, you didn’t _seriously_ think I spent a whole summer in Metropolis robbing banks, stealing cars, and hitting every nightclub I could find—while turning away all the gorgeous women who were throwing themselves at me every night?”

            “I don’t believe this!” Alice exclaimed, jumping to her feet again. He leaned back on his elbows and grinned at her, and she crossed her arms defensively over her chest while trying not to look at his. “We’ve talked about this! I asked you _point-blank_ and you said—“

            “Alice, sweetie, I don’t _mind_ ,” he assured her, in an infuriatingly self-satisfied tone. His eyes scanned her from boot heels to skull barrettes. “I _like_ that you’re a virgin. I _like_ going where no man has gone before.”


End file.
